Easter morning, planted on the couch with my husband and our faithful hound dog, Zander. There are three teenage girls sleeping upstairs. They could be there until noon.
Gone are the days of colorful eggs hidden in our yard and Easter Baskets loaded with chocolate bunnies and fluffy yellow marsh mellow chicks. I might have done it, I could have done it – they would have loved it – but I just didn’t have it in me.
What a great phrase, “Have it in me.”
And what is in me this morning?
* The bumbly, possibly pot hole filled road ahead of me this week as my new eCourse, Telling True Stories, launches. The momentary horror when I realized that I had mis-scheduled the Lesson link, and it had gone live this morning instead of tomorrow morning. The way I sat here on the couch, coffee in hand, shaking my head at the perfection of that – how afraid I am to make a mistake with all this new technology – WordPress, Mailchimp, Photoshop – and how perfect that even though I WASN’T READY, things moved along without me.
* The notes I took with my smarty pants coach, Rachel Cole last week about how I was ready to embrace the wabi sabi of it all, amble into my first eCourse in a beat up yellow pick-up truck instead of a flashy sports car, flags waving. How the energy of the offering – the gift to write true stories – was what mattered, not whether my hair was going to be right and people would love me.
*How it’s taken a year to get here. Especially in the face of all those dead ends and dashed visions along the way; the mix up with my dear friend who I had envisioned creating this with, the well meaning designer who I had to say goodbye to, the money and time seemingly wasted, not to mention menopause, teenage daughters, and a mysterious illness and hospital stay which ended up putting everything in its place and reminding me what was important.
* How I let myself buy a headband with big blue and green fake flowers on it the other day even though it might have seemed too frivolous and young for me – how just looking at it made me happy and I knew I deserved it – the flowers and the happiness.
* That great quote by Oliver Wendell Holmes that Rachel gave me, “Most people die with the music still in them.” How I know I won’t. How I hope you don’t either.
oh, how we all want it to be perfect but how it never ever will be and we still wish…can’t wait to delve into truth telling with you my friend! xxoo
What a beautiful honest post. I love what has been brought up for you as you embark on this new journey and how willingly you share it here. I look forward to your class. I am going over now to sign up. 🙂
This is perfect. This is a perfect, true story. Thank you, Lulu.
Personally I find the beat up old pick-up trucks so much more charming and interesting than shiny sports cars. Love, love, love this. And you.